Among the many abilities of Akira's Zanpakutō, Oath of Victory, one technique involved infusing the blade with spiritual energy—causing it to radiate with a brilliant, golden-white glow.
This light was more than ornamental: it dramatically amplified the sword's cutting power, allowing it to cleave through even the dense, calcified hide of a Gillian-class Menos Grande as though it were paper.
Edrad Liones—proud, battle-hardened, and certain of his superiority—learned this the hard way.
One moment, he loomed over the lone Shinigami, sneering at the boy's meager Reiatsu. The next—his hollow mask split cleanly in two, and his massive form crumpled into ash.
Akira lowered his blade, blinking once. "Huh. This Gillian was more reckless than the others."
The surrounding Menos froze.
"Wh—what?! Edrad… was cut down?!" Nakeem Greendina stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief.
"How?! That Shinigami's Reiatsu is practically nothing!" Shawlong Koufang growled, fists clenched.
"You bastard!" Di Roy Rinker snarled. "You've signed your own death warrant!"
Four Gillians surged forward—Nakeem, Shawlong, Di Roy, and Ilfort Grantz—encircling Akira in an instant.
"An ambush?" Akira's eyes narrowed. He shifted his stance, Reiatsu coiling tight beneath his skin.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Ceros erupted like artillery fire, tearing craters into the sands of Hueco Mundo. But Akira moved like a whisper between thunderclaps—dodging each blast with impossible grace, his Shunpo leaving afterimages in his wake. Every evasion ended with a counterstrike: shallow cuts at first, then deeper gashes that oozed black reishi.
"Damn it—he's too fast!" Nakeem panted.
"We can't even see him!" Shawlong gritted his teeth, frustration mounting.
From the ridge above, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez watched, arms crossed, jaw tight. His cyan eyes tracked Akira's movements with growing intensity.
This kid… his Reiatsu's weak—but that Zanpakutō? It cuts like an Arrancar's Resurrección.
And his speed… it rivals Adjuchas.
Impossible for a Shinigami of his level.
"Fall back," Grimmjow barked suddenly. "I'll deal with him."
The four Gillians hesitated—just long enough.
Akira twisted his grip on Oath of Victory.
"Reverse: Wind King's Barrier!"
Instead of shielding him, the technique propelled him forward—an explosive lunge at three times supersonic speed.
Di Roy never saw it coming. His head hit the sand before his body knew it was dead.
Akira spun mid-air, blade arcing in a silver whirlwind—Shawlong's mask shattered, his hollow hole split clean through.
"No—!" Ilfort barely had time to raise his arms before Akira planted his foot on his chest and slammed spiritual energy into the blade.
"Oath's Judgment!"
A searing lance of condensed Reiatsu—bright as a laser, sharp as divine wrath—pierced Ilfort's torso. No explosion, no theatrics—just a silent, fatal beam that left a smoldering hole where his core once pulsed.
Three Gillians. Ash on the wind.
Even Grimmjow struggled to process what had just happened. But once the realization set in, his rage exploded.
"I'LL KILL YOU!!!"
With a furious roar, he lunged at Akira—only to be evaded at the last second by shunpo.
Now recognizing his opponent, Akira's expression hardened.
"So this is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez… He's already an exceptionally strong Menos Grande, nearly at the peak of his evolution. With my current depleted spiritual pressure, fighting him head-on would be unwise. I need to retreat."
Though Akira sought a challenge, his survival was paramount. Without hesitation, he used shunpo to put as much distance between them as possible.
"Bastard! Don't run!!"
Grimmjow and Nakeem immediately gave chase, their movements blurring across the desert landscape in an instant.
Halfway through the pursuit, both Grimmjow and Nakeem launched sporadic attacks, but Akira's precise evasion left them grasping at air. Even Nakeem, less agile than Grimmjow, was quickly falling behind.
"No—that Shinigami's shunpo is too fast! I can't keep up!"
Realizing the gulf in speed and watching Akira's silhouette grow faint in the distance, Nakeem skidded to a halt, panting in frustration.
Grimmjow, however, was an outlier among Menos—renowned even then for his ferocity and speed—so he barely managed to stay within striking range.
"Tch… this guy's as annoying as a fly."
Glancing back, Akira saw Grimmjow still hot on his tail and felt a wave of pressure. His reiatsu was barely above that of a standard seated officer, and the relentless high-intensity skirmishes—coupled with constant use of shunpo—were draining him fast.
"Hahaha! You're dead!"
Spotting the slightest falter in Akira's movement, Grimmjow's eyes gleamed with bloodlust as he coiled to strike.
At that moment, a brilliant Cero ripped through the air, detonating between them in a thunderous explosion of red light and sand.
"BOOM!"
The blast missed both combatants but forced Grimmjow to skid to a halt.
"Who!?"
He whirled toward the source and saw a towering Menos Grande standing at the edge of a nearby dune. This one bore an elegant, antler-like horn on its forehead and an air of calm authority.
"I am Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck," the figure declared, her voice soft yet firm. "You have trespassed into my territory."
Despite her gentle tone, resolve hardened her stance.
"I dislike needless killing. Cease this fight while you are in my domain."
"Hah! You're dreaming! Why the hell would I listen to you?!"
Grimmjow sneered, already gathering crimson energy in his maw for another Cero.
Nelliel's eyes narrowed. "If either of you insists on violence," she said, lowering her stance, "then I will oppose the aggressor."
Far from backing down, Grimmjow's fury burned hotter.
"Oh yeah? Let's see if you can back that up!"
With a bestial roar, he unleashed his Cero straight at her.
Unflinching, Nelliel countered instantly—her own Cero meeting his in a blinding collision of raw spiritual energy. The two Adjuchas-level Menos clashed with earth-shaking force, sand and reiatsu swirling around them like a storm.
From a safe vantage point, Akira allowed himself a small, weary smirk.
"Well… this is an unexpected turn."
He recognized her immediately—Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, one of the original Arrancar and future Tres Espada. Even now, before her transformation, she stood apart: a Hollow of immense power tempered by compassion, a rarity in Hueco Mundo's brutal hierarchy.
"This works in my favor. Let them wear each other down."
Settling onto a rock a safe distance away, Akira closed his eyes and began channeling what little reiatsu he had left, focusing on recovery as the battle raged before him.